


Quem Deus Vult Perdere Dementat Prius

by Sashataakheru



Category: The Chaser RPF, The Move, The Traveling Wilburys
Genre: (sexual) slavery, Blood Play, Bondage, Caging, Character Death, Community: kinked, D/s, F/M, Humiliation, M/M, Magic, Multi, Torture, Violence, Whipping, alterate universe: historical (ancient rome), collaring, drug use/drug-induced states, dub con, fairy sex, horror themes, madness and delusions, mindfuckage, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-17
Updated: 2010-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:17:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ancient Roman AU. Charles, hell-bent on claiming the Emperor's throne, orders the Emperor's closest friends to be killed to try and bring the Emperor to his knees. Little does he know that the Gods have other plans for him and his villa is not safe for anyone who enters it. Madness, strange dreams, and things that aren't there plague the guests unlucky enough to be trapped there, and figuring out what's real is impossible. The Emperor sends his best men to find Charles and haul him back to Rome, but what they discover there is nothing like what they expected to find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quem Deus Vult Perdere Dementat Prius

_George Harrison's villa, South of Neapolis_  
The gang had wasted no time once they'd received the message. They knew where they were going and what they were about to do. It didn't bother them who the victims were. It was just another job, another chance to loot gold and jewels from rich Romans and add to their own hoard of treasure. They were all former slaves, having escaped their masters to run rogue. Any pain they could inflict on their old Roman masters was justified.

The message had been brought by a small boy riding a mule. He'd handed it over to Carl, ostensibly the leader of the gang, and he'd sent his reply back with the boy. They'd chosen their camp very carefully. Bev had scratched a map into the dirt as they'd discussed their tactics. It was close enough to the estate to ensure a quick attack, but far enough away that they wouldn't be seen. The hill they'd chosen was high enough to give them a decent view inside the estate's high walls, allowing them to see where they needed to go.

"Right, lads, it's time go get paid," Carl said, getting to his feet.

There was a murmuring of approval and his men got to their feet. Ace and Trevor filled their quivers with arrows and checked their bows. Carl and Bev sharpened their swords one last time. Finally ready, they extinguished the fire, packed up their belongings, and rode off towards the estate. They stopped just outside to light their torches. Part of the fun was burning down the place to leave no trace left, and it was even more fun to do so with burning arrows. The estate they were about to ransack had a solid wooden perimeter fence that would be easier to burn down than try to force their way through. Their sturdy warhorses would not flinch either. They'd stolen them from a Roman garrison and had taken good care of them ever since. A good warhorse was hard to come by.

As they approached the gate, Ace and Trevor got their arrows ready, dipping the tar-covered tips into the flaming torches Carl and Bev held. Checking that the road was clear, Carl gave them the order to attack. They fired their arrows at the gate, hoping to burn it down. Another three arrows and the gates were ablaze as servants hurried to fend off the attackers. But a gate on fire was no trouble for Carl and his men. Waiting til the gate was burnt down enough to ensure no one would get badly injured, they jumped their horses through the burning timber and took their first kills.

The gate was left unguarded, and the fire was beginning to spread to the fences and the crops nearby. They rode towards the main manor house. Drawn by the screaming from the gate, those living there had come to see what was happening. A few arrows as they rode up took care of them. Shouldering his bow and unsheathing his sword instead, Ace took guard over the precious warhorses while the others scouted inside to steal anything of value and to make sure no one was left alive.

* * *

  
__  


Jeff's Villa Urbana, within the city of Rome  
Dhani could never remember a time when Jeff hadn’t been around. Jeff and his father were close friends, and Dhani always stayed with Jeff when he was in the city. His father preferred to stay on the farm, only coming to Rome when he was needed, but the separation was bearable. Dhani went home when he could, when things weren’t so busy. He was still studying, and was not ready to take his father’s Senate seat just yet, though it was only a matter of years before his father retired and Dhani would have to step up. Such was the burden of being a patrician, though at least he would not be head of the household until his father’s death, though he rather hoped that was far into the future.

It had been a long day. Dhani had spent much of it in the library, going over some papers his father had sent him some time ago. He had wanted them translated and the job had taken much longer than he’d anticipated. The original language was not one he was fluent in, leaving him to consult with his teachers instead. The day was made even longer by the fact Dhani would not be going home to visit his parents for another month. The translation was taking too long, and he could not spare the time. He also wanted to wait to take Jeff down with him; Jeff was yet to return from the south where he’d been seeing off some rebels. In the meantime, Dhani had sent Oli, his most trusted servant, in his place to stay for a few days to get things ready for when he and Jeff would arrive. Dhani could spare him for the moment, since Jeff had his own slaves to tend to their needs. Actually, the only good thing about the day was that Jeff was due home soon and Dhani would be happy to have someone to share his bed with that night.

After returning from the library, Dhani had retreated to the front verandah as he waited for Jeff to arrive. He distracted himself with some homework he hadn’t gotten around to doing yet. The sun had just set as Jeff’s chariot drew up to the villa. Their stable boy was there to meet him and tend to the horses. Dhani ran down to greet him and Jeff hugged him tight, glad to be back amongst familiar faces.

"Oh, it's good to see you. The Gods brought you back safely again," Dhani said.

"Yeah, I'm alright, just a couple of scratches. Mars brought us victory, thank the Gods. I was getting sick of sleeping in a bloody tent," Jeff said.

Dhani looked him over. "Yes, you're covered in mud. I think the baths are calling."

"Nothing has ever sounded so sweet. Lead on, dear boy, and tell me about anything that isn't war, battle and death," Jeff said as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

* * *

The baths were small, but Dhani didn't mind. It afforded them some privacy, which the larger public baths did not give them. Certainly, it was not unusual for men and boys to get together at the baths, but Dhani did not wish to disgrace his father's name if it got out that he was in bed with his one of his father's closest friends. There were some things that remained between them alone.

The water was steaming hot, and candlelight reflected off the light blue wall tiles. Jeff was glad to be rid of his uniform. Dhani knelt at his feet, an ornate box by his side. He waited til Jeff was ready to address him. Jeff stretched, aggravating some of the wounds he'd received during the fighting. He hissed at the pain. He'd need to have them properly treated now that he had access to his personal physician. Finally he turned his attention to Dhani.

"Go on, give us your collar. I wanna put it on you," Jeff said.

Dhani lifted the box and offered it to him, keeping his head down. He wasn't to look at him until he was collared and had Jeff's permission. Until then, he was to keep silent and keep his eyes averted out of respect. Jeff took the box from him and opened it. Sitting on a plush silk cushion was a slave collar, identical to those worn by real slaves. It had Dhani's name followed by Jeff's name and the year Jeff became his master embossed into it, as was proper.

Jeff removed the collar and set the box aside. "Three years. Seems like only yesterday you first bowed your head to me," Jeff said, gazing down at him fondly.

Dhani allowed himself a small grin as Jeff leaned down to fasten the collar around his neck. Now he wasn't just his guest, he belonged to Jeff alone, and nothing pleased him more.

"Go on, get on yer feet, it's been long enough since I last held ya," Jeff said. Dhani stood, finally looking at him. Jeff pulled him into a warm hug.

"'A slave who isn't a slave, who accepts the role willingly, he treads a fine line twixt life and death, and the Gods alone grant him enlightenment'," Dhani murmured as he gazed into his eyes.

"'Only then shall he be free'. I can't claim to be a great man, but you've always held wisdom greater than your years," Jeff said.

Dhani shook his head. "You're a man of peace who fights for the glory of the Empire, that's all. I have never met a more kind-hearted soldier."

"Hey, no more talk of war and killing and all that rubbish. That's an order. Now, I think it's time we got in those baths, don't you?" Jeff said, pressing a finger to his lips to silence him.

Dhani took his hand and drew him into the bath. The water was wonderfully warm, and Jeff could feel his body begin to relax. Dhani grabbed a cloth as he began washing him, taking care of his master as he must. There were more than a couple of scratches, of course, and Dhani cleaned them carefully, washing the dirt away. They weren't fresh wounds but would probably appreciate a proper cleaning. Jeff flinched a little as he gently washed a long cut across his shoulder blade. Tentatively, Dhani licked it, tasting a slight tinge of blood as he did so. A shiver ran up Jeff's spine.

Dhani leant in and whispered in his ear. "Want me to keep doing that? You've got a few old wounds for me to play with, haven't you, master?"

"If it rids me of the exertions of war, so be it. I feel I could sleep for weeks. I'm getting too old for warmongering," Jeff murmured as Dhani licked the wound again.

"Yes, you should stay here and let me look after you. You know how good I am at that," Dhani said.

Jeff knew that all too well, and couldn't help shivering again as Dhani ran his tongue over another wound on his arm. Jeff had always loved his devotion. He'd had some slaves performing the same role in the past and they weren't nearly as good. Then again, they were slaves, and Jeff had never felt for them what he felt for Dhani. Dhani was free to love him, and didn't mind wearing a collar when they were in bed together.

Dhani was wearing his collar now, and Jeff tugged on it gently as he brought him round into a soft kiss. He was wonderfully subservient, but unlike a slave, he had his own mind, and Jeff adored him for it. That no one else knew Dhani wore a collar for Jeff made it all the more special. It was just a secret between them. Jeff brought him into his arms as he kissed him again, relishing having him back again. The more they were apart, the more he missed him, and he loved nothing more than coming home to his warm embrace.

* * *

_Charles' villa urbana, Telesia, around a day's travel from Neapolis_  
Carl and the gang arrived at Charles’ villa with a single male slave in tow. It had been a long journey and the charred remains of the villa they’d burnt down were a fading memory. They were in good spirits, hoping for a decent payout once Charles had taken his share. Charles' servants tended to their horses, and while reluctant to leave the black warhorse he'd ridden on, the slave did relinquish his mount. Trevor grasped his arm and dragged him along as they were led to Charles' private chamber.

It was a richly decorated room, with exotic fabrics, skins, and treasures from around the world. In one corner, a few scantily-clad concubines lounged on some cushions. Charles sat behind his large desk that sat in the middle of the room. He looked up as they entered. Trevor shoved the slave forward as they dropped their sacks of loot before him.

"Is it done?" Charles said.

"What do you think? We killed everyone but this pathetic waif," Carl said.

Charles got to his feet and walked around his desk to address them. "Why is that slave still alive? I thought I told you to kill everyone."

"He looked like your type, Charles. Figured you could have some fun with him," Ace said.

Charles glared at him. "You should have killed him and left him with the others. What am I going to do with him? He is better off dead," he said as he drew his sword.

The slave cowered in fear and backed away. Trevor grabbed him and shoved him forward. He fell into Charles' embrace, luckily missing the sword.

"Worthless piece of shit. You lot are a pack of incompetent bastards. You do know you left his collar at the estate, don't you? They will be searching for him, presumably to charge him with arson and murder. I cannot sell this piece of shit. I don't particularly want it part of my concubines either. He is better off dead," Charles said, raising his blade to strike him dead.

"Wait! Please, I will serve you truly. Please, let me live. I will serve out my life under your command. It is bad luck to kill a fairy," the slave said, begging for his life as he fell to his knees before him.

Charles rolled his eyes. "Great. He's crazy to boot. Just what I need."

"I, er, wouldn't be so hasty. I've heard about them fairies. Supposed to be magical, granting wishes and such. Maybe he's just what you need," Ace cut in.

"What are these fairies? Some sort of superstitious barbarian nonsense, I'd wager," Charles said.

"They're magical people from the Otherworld. Back home, they're said to bring great fortunes on those they favour. I wouldn't chance their revenge if you killed him. They have vicious curses that can end a man's life instantly. And if he's here, I'd wager there are other fairies around too, scattered amongst your estates, waiting for an opportunity to strike back. I wouldn't get them angry if I were you," Ace said, unashamed at embellishing the story a little to get his point across.

That none of his fellow gang members stepped in to shut him up or contradict him said more than Ace had expected. It was tacit permission to try and save the slave's life, no matter how many lies had to be told, and if that involved convincing Charles that the slave was indeed a fairy, then so be it.

Ace knew Charles was completely right, of course. As a living witness and possible wanted criminal, the slave was utterly worthless and it would better serve their interests to kill him, and possibly the horse they’d stolen as well. And yet, his instinct told him to try and spare the slave's life. He had lived long enough to know when to listen to that little whispering voice in his head. It had rarely let him down and he wasn't about to start disobeying it now.

As for Charles, he was not normally superstitious. He was a practical man, and while he was happy to give the required offerings at the Temples in order to maintain his good standing amongst the community, whether the Gods existed or not was none of his concern. All he cared about was claiming the throne of the Emperor back for his family, and all the land and wealth that came with it. If this slave was indeed a fairy, well, it couldn't hurt to keep him alive. Perhaps he could befriend him and he might bring him good luck in his fight. He might not know much about fairies at all, but that wasn't the point. Malicious spirits could do a world of harm to anyone who crossed them, no matter how rich they were. Sometimes, it was wise to err on the side of caution than risk your own life for no good reason. Greed, like wealth, can kill a man if he has too much of it.

Charles stood him up straight and looked him over. He was healthy enough, relatively speaking, and his eyes blazed with passion. Charles wondered what made him tick. He walked around him, inspecting his body and testing his physique. The slave didn't need to be told to strip for him, and his tunic fell to the floor around his feet, revealing the dark blue tattoos that swirled all over his body. He stood there, head bowed in shame. The slave was used to doing this for his master's wife, who had enjoyed tormenting and humiliating him as much as he enjoyed being humiliated. He covered his genitals, wanting to hide any arousal that might decide to turn up.

Charles stood behind him and ran his fingers along some of the scars on his back. "You got a name, slave?"

"Roy, sir. My name is Roy," the slave said, shivering from his touch.

"Well, Roy, they're some lovely tattoos you've got. One of them feisty Gaels, are we? You'd hardly guess, given how placid you are. Got all the fire beaten out of you, I'd wager. How anyone could think you'd been responsible for burning down your master's estate and killing them all is quite impossible. You're but a mere child, aren't you? Incapable of fending for yourself," Charles said. He traced some of the tattoos with his fingers, curious as to their meaning.

Roy straightened and stared forward. "I'm a Pict, not a filthy Gael. Not that you would care to recognise the difference."

Charles came around to face him and grasped his chin, gazing into his eyes. "Hmm, tetchy, isn't he? Still got some fire in the belly, I see. He might prove stimulating enough. So, you're a fairy then?"

"Yes, I am one of the Fairy People. It is... another name for my people. But we are all in hiding now. The Gaels, and your people, have enslaved us for a very long time," Roy said. He hoped to the Gods these people were unfamiliar enough with his race that they would not know he was lying. He was thankful for Ace's words, though he hardly knew why he was defending him.

Charles moved around behind him and Roy closed his eyes as his hands began caressing his body. "So then, what do fairies do? Prance about in the moonlight?" Charles murmured.

"We dance, and feast, and sing songs, and we are kind to those who are kind to us. Much wealth we can offer you, if you are kind to us," Roy said, keeping his voice quiet.

Charles leant in and whispered in his ear. "You like this, don't you? Fairy or not, you quite like being ordered around. Tell me, did your master take you to bed with him?"

Roy refused to answer. Charles brushed his fingers down his stomach towards his groin. A master's touch was making him hard. Roy hoped no one noticed how much he was blushing. He bit his bottom lip as Charles moved around him. Roy didn't stop him touching him, didn't protest when he took his cock in his hand and began stroking him slowly.

"Come now, fairy, are you telling me your master did not sleep with you? How terrible for you," Charles goaded.

"My master's wife favoured me. I did not go to bed with my master. Only she cared for me," Roy answered.

Charles smirked as he felt his cock harden at the admission. He had figured as much. "Yes, you do look like the sort only a woman would love. You are nothing but a child in her eyes, a pathetic creature in need of nurturing. Perhaps in time she would have tamed you."

  
"She was the kindest woman I have ever met, and I will not hear a bad word spoken about her," Roy said softly, lowering his gaze as he remembered she was now dead, like everyone else at the villa.

Charles was silent for a moment, feeling a small pang of guilt for those he had ordered them to kill. He was not a rash man, and he rarely ordered these sort of things unless there was no other option. The Emperor had refused to hear his claim, and had banned him from entering Rome. All things considered, Charles was left with no other way to make the Emperor listen to him. It wasn't his preferred method, but war had beaten most of his sympathy out of him. He looked at Roy again, seeing him standing there before him.

"Alright, you can stay. But don't think this makes up for what happened tonight. You still owe me because his son still lives. He will need to be taken care of eventually," Charles said.

Ace stepped forward. "Accept my life as payment then. I'm worth more than him anyway. This would take care of our debt, would it not?"

"Ace, get back here. Don't be stupid," Carl said, reaching for his arm.

"Now why would you offer yourself up like that, hmm? Surely you would rather walk out of here a free man with your friends than enter into slavery again. If you think I will somehow be kinder to you, you are most mistaken," Charles said.

Trevor approached him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, man, just leave it. There'll be plenty more jobs. You don't have to do this."

Ace brushed them away and knelt at Charles' feet beside Roy. He lay his weapons down and bowed his head. Even Roy was surprised by his actions. He wondered what he was up to.

"I'm just a slave, Ace, you don't have to sacrifice yourself for me. I'm worthless," Roy said, gazing down at him.

"I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for my friends. This will pay our debts to you, will it not, Charles? The gold, the horse, the slave, and me. They will walk out of here as free men, truly free men," Ace said, catching his gaze.

Charles considered his offer. "So you're offering all this if I cancel your debt? Just like that? You're either brave or stupid. Why do you think I'll even accept it?"

Ace got to his feet and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Because he really is a fairy, and I know how to placate them when you cage them. Trust me. You want this to succeed, you want more riches than you can ever imagine, you're gonna need me by your side."

Charles scoffed a little, but the idea of fairy riches had taken hold and there was nothing that could shake it.

Ace stepped back, offering his hand. "So, do we have a deal?"

"It's a deal. Men, your debts are cancelled. But don't think I won't call on you again when I need you. Just - just don't stray too far. I will need to contact you again," Charles said, shaking Ace's hand.

"Right then. We're heading to Sicilia, lads. You can find us there, if you need us," Carl said as he turned to leave.

"You'd better be there. If I can't find you, there'll be hell to pay. I can still hold Ace to ransom. Don't think I won't if you refuse to answer me," Charles said, taking Ace by the wrist.

"Don't worry, Charles, we'll be in Sicilia. Come on, let's get out of here," Carl said.

Charles waited til they were alone before calling one of his concubines over. Andrew was his oldest and most favoured, and was almost a free man given what Charles allowed him to do. Andrew was slightly shorter than Roy, slender but fierce, and wore an exquisite gown fit for a Queen. A small circlet of gold sat on his head like a crown, and he wore no collar around his neck. He came and stood beside Charles and draped his arms around his shoulders.

"What have we here then? They look tasty. May I play with them?" Andrew murmured, stroking a hand over Charles' cheek.

Charles turned to him and kissed him. "Got you some new toys. Don't go breaking them. They're very valuable. And I do actually mean that for once. I need them alive. Don't destroy them like you destroyed the last ones I sent you."

Andrew pouted as he looked at them. "Oh, come on, I wasn't that mean to them. If they couldn't handle it, that's not my fault."

"Andrew, I mean it. I really do need these two kept alive. So there'll be none of the crap you pile onto the dregs I send you. No pain. No wounds. I will be checking to make sure you stick to that. I might treat you like a Queen, but I can still punish you if necessary. You are, after all, just a slave in pretty clothes," Charles said.

Andrew did not like being reminded of that. His bondage to Charles was still in force, and most of the time, he liked to pretend it wasn't, given how much free reign he had. However, there were times like these when Charles reminded him of his place, and Andrew liked his freedom too much to disobey on those few times when Charles enforced his power.

"Alright. No wounding. But in exchange, you gotta find me someone I can hurt. I haven't had anyone to play with for weeks. I'm _bored_ ," Andrew said, trying to coax him into giving in to him.

"You get dregs when I feel like giving you dregs. Honestly, do I need to shut you down below for a while so you can think about your place? You have no power to dictate terms to me, slave, and I can easily get rid of you if necessary. Not that you'll fetch much. You'll need to be tamed all over again. No master wants a slave so used to freedom," Charles said harshly.

Andrew knew better than to argue with him. He was pushing his luck, he knew it, and he was not so precious to Charles that he would be immune from being sold off again. Some slaves had it so much worse than he did, and the last thing he wanted was to lose that privilege.

"Yes, sir. Don't worry, I won't hurt them. Promise," Andrew said, crossing his heart.

"Good. Come to my chambers when you're done with them. I want a word," Charles said.

Andrew got the distinct impression it would not be a kind word either. Accepting he had screwed up, he complied with Charles’ wishes and took the two slaves down to the slave house to break them in.

* * *

Roy took Ace's hand as Andrew led them off to the concubines’ quarters. It was a lavish building in the style of a temple, fit for a God to live in. Charles' concubines were not large in number by most accounts, but Charles was always more interested in quality over quantity. If he wanted a thousand women to sleep with, he need only lead a raiding party against a city and sleep with its women as his men burnt it to the ground. No, he wanted slaves that matched his expensive taste, and that meant searching the markets all across the Empire to pick out the very best, the most beautiful, the most delicate and sexual, the ones that knew how to please a master like him.

Roy had never seen such wealth before. There was almost an Arabian feel about the place, and even some Egyptian statues sat in little alcoves in the walls, lit by small lamps. The main chamber was empty; it was where they all gathered when Charles called them. Beyond that were the baths, private rooms, and other assorted areas where they were allowed to live.

Andrew led them through to one of the smaller private rooms. There were cushions and rugs and other furnishings, nothing harsh at all. A small low table sat in the centre of the room. Andrew ushered them in and drew the curtain across the doorway. Roy gazed around him. He glanced over at Andrew as he lit the lamps around the room, catching the fire flickering over the walls.

"So. You're the new boys. Bet you've never seen anything like this before," Andrew said. He approached them and slung an arm around their shoulders, bringing them together.

"I've seen them. In Greece and Egypt when I travelled with the Oracle. I've seen some of the most beautiful palaces in the Empire," Ace said.

Andrew came around to face him, impressed by his tale. "Well, we have been around, haven't we? How did you end up as a wandering barbarian then?"

"I was freed. The Gods broke the bonds that held me in captivity and I escaped," Ace said.

"And now you are caught again. Naughty slave. That was silly of you, to have tasted freedom only to voluntarily give it up again," Andrew said.

Ace kept Andrew's gaze as he pressed close to him. Andrew smiled as he stripped him, slowly, whispering in his ear as he indulged in his fantasy that he really did have more power than them. Ace didn't flinch, but he did notice Roy's eyes widen in shock as he saw the same blue tattoos all over his body.

"Well, you kept that well hidden, didn't you? Another fairy, hey? Aren't I a lucky boy? Unlike Charles, I have heard of fairies. The sex is supposed to be mind-blowing. Shall we?" Andrew said, a finger tracing one of the blue swirls on his chest.

"I can't see how I have much choice in the matter," Ace said as Andrew lay him down on some cushions.

Roy kept back. He would not escape, of course; he was too entranced by Ace. He had not met another Pict since he left his country. It had been years. Now, there before him, was another of his kind. Just seeing his tattoos told Roy he was really a Pict. He could read them, _they made sense_ , and told him where he'd come from, just like Roy's did. A shiver ran up his spine.

Ace didn't mind being pinned down. What he did mind was Andrew groping his back in a bid to find his wings, convinced he too was a fairy. He wasn't in a position to tell him that fairies didn't quite work that way. Andrew was impressed by his tattoos. They glowed when he licked them, and he was sure he could wear him down if he did it long enough. Ace certainly didn't mind; he loosely held Andrew's head in place as he licked down his chest, following the blue markings. Andrew looked up at him, eyes glazed with lust. Ace smirked. He always had this effect on his lovers. Andrew crawled up his body and kissed him fiercely, a hand grasping at his hair. Andrew couldn't get enough of him.

"Oh, Master is going to love you. You're intoxicating. So," Andrew paused to lick the tattoo winding around his neck, "so very delicious. Gods, fairies, I have two of them. You're not leaving my sight."

Ace chuckled as Andrew began mauling him, sucking hard on his neck. So obsessed with him, he didn't even notice when Ace flipped him over and pinned him down instead. The only thing Andrew cared about was the fact his cock was aching and it didn't stop when Ace kissed down his chest and started sucking him. Andrew was stunned into silence, clawing desperately at the cushions around him as Ace got ready to fuck him.

Roy could not believe his eyes when he saw thin translucent wings shaking themselves free of Ace's back as he watched them having sex. His wings fluttered lightly, sometimes catching in the fire light, and Roy could've sworn he saw a very fine sparkling dust surrounding them. Curious, he slowly approached them. Ace caught his eye as he stopped beside them and leaned over to whisper to him that Andrew wouldn't mind sucking his cock.

Andrew grasped onto Roy's arm when he saw him there, begging him to let him pleasure him. His eyes were glazed with lust, and he smiled lazily as his hand went to Roy's cock to begin stroking him. It was all the encouragement he needed, and he straddled Andrew's chest as he began sucking him.

A burst of energy flooded Roy's body as Ace began tracing the tattoos on his back with his tongue. The marks on his skin began to glow, just like Ace's were, and Roy had no idea what was causing it. They'd never done that before, that's for sure. Roy felt like he was the one they were both playing with, though, even though Andrew was the one trapped underneath them. Andrew held his legs with his arms, holding him in place, while Ace grasped his shoulder hard before his arm snaked around his chest. Roy wasn't going anywhere and he liked it more than he realised. Arms were much more pleasant than cages and shackles. The pleasure coursing through his body was incentive enough, and he did brave running his fingers through Andrew's hair, grasping as firmly as he dared as he tried to get as much out of him as possible. Andrew intensified his actions, his fingers digging into Roy's thighs.

Roy found himself falling forward as he came, leaning over Andrew as he tried to steady himself on the cushions. Andrew was licking him, incessantly, so much he felt he might get hard all over again if he wasn't careful. A shiver went up his spine as Ace came round beside him and brought him into a kiss. He brought him into his arms as Andrew lay there exhausted, contented grin on his face. Roy curled up beside Ace, unsure what was going to happen next. Andrew's destructive streak might have been quelled for now, but how long would it last?

"Shh, don't say a word. I'll explain later," Ace whispered, pre-empting his questions.

"Are we going to be okay? I don't know if I like it here," Roy murmured, gazing at Andrew.

Ace didn't want to say anything more while Andrew was close enough to hear. "We'll be alright. Trust me."

Roy contented himself with silence. He shivered in the cooling air and crawled over to grab a blanket to wrap around them both. Roy kept an eye on Andrew in case he decided to snap out of his daze and hurt them.

* * *

Andrew didn't move for a long time. Ace didn't dare leave or sneak out. He needed Charles to arrive and see them first so he could weave his magic on him as well. Ace had a feeling the only way the two of them were going to get out of there was if he could bring Charles, his new master, under his sway. He'd done it before, it was how he escaped from the Oracle the first time. He'd got his guards so drunk on his own magic that they killed themselves as Ace stole a horse and ran off to freedom.

"Ace? Are you really a fairy? Why would you even want to save me anyway?" Roy murmured.

Ace shifted, bringing Roy close to him as he gently stroked his hair. "I was told to save you. Gods only know why. Maybe it's cos you're Pictish. Our people have been scattered from one side of the Empire to another. We gotta stick together."

"Maybe. I've never seen another Pict since I left home all those years ago."

Roy trailed off as he remembered his homeland. He missed it terribly, but he was beginning to think he'd never see it again as long as he lived. He moved in front of Ace and traced a finger over his tattoos. Ace kept his gaze as he traced down his chest, following the blue markings.

"I can't believe they're real. I can read them, I know what they all mean." Roy lifted Ace's hand and studied the marks swirling around it. "I know where you came from, what clan, what lands, what king you were born under, everything about you is written on your body."

Ace reached out to brush a finger across Roy's chest, tracing his own tattoos. "Yeah, well, that's how they're supposed to work. I'm surprised you managed to get yours when you were effectively enslaved as well. Wouldn't they have discouraged those sort of things?"

Roy glanced over at Andrew and moved back beside him again. Ace brought him close as he wrapped the blanket around them both. "I was too young to get them, but my grandmother had heard I was soon to be shipped off to Rome and insisted I was not to go unmarked. I should always remember where I come from. We met in the forest near the farm where I was enslaved. I was smuggled out by one of the guards. And we performed the ritual under the cover of darkness. The next day, I was flogged for my disobedience. My grandmother was killed. I was kept away from the other Pictish slaves until I was shipped out. I never saw my people again," Roy said.

"I wondered why some of the marks on your back were so scarred and disfigured. They never had time to heal properly," Ace said.

Roy wiped his tears away. "Our people will die out, won't they? Soon no one will remember us and there will be no one left who can remember our history, and our gods, and we will be forgotten."

"Don't say that. We'll live on, I just know it. We'll break free from our bonds and live in peace again," Ace said.

Roy wasn't sure he believed him. It was hard to see how things could possibly get better when he was enslaved by a madman. "I really wish I could believe you. We're gonna die down here, I just know it."

Ace brought him into a tight hug and pressed a kiss to his head. "Shhh, don't cry. One day, we'll be home again, and we won't be slaves anymore. I don't know how, but it'll happen. I know when things are going to happen."

"What good does that do when we are trapped down here? We are friendless in this country. No one will ever save us," Roy said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"The Gods will not abandon us. They will free us," Ace said.

Roy wasn't sure he still believed in gods. The gods of his people had abandoned him, and when he had, out of desperation, tried to talk to the Roman gods, they had been openly hostile towards him, leaving him bereft of comfort. "How can our Gods survive in such a violent barbaric land? If the Gods cannot survive, what chance do we?"

Ace didn't reply; he didn't have an answer. He wasn't sure Roy would accept 'the Gods told me so' as an excuse. Not everyone trusted slaves who heard the voices of the gods. It was liable to get you flogged, if you were lucky. Most never survived. Ace had been fortunate that the gods had always guided him and had never let him down.

Roy eventually dozed off, sleeping peacefully beside him. Ace admired his ability to sleep, but he figured he was probably exhausted anyway, and it wasn't like they'd slept since they left the farm they'd burnt to the ground. Actually, he probably hadn't eaten since then either. Perhaps they should go find some food when they get out of here, and Ace was confident they would get out of here. It was just a matter of time as they waited for Charles to arrive at last.

* * *

It had been with some reluctance that Carl had accepted Charles' invitation to a grand feast before they left. It wasn't totally unexpected; Charles always had an eclectic bunch of guests at his feasts, so the presence of barbarian gang members was hardly surprising, and they had been invited to several feasts before. Carl had wanted to set off towards Sicilia as soon as possible, but Trevor argued that, given the hour, what was the point in heading out in the middle of the night? If Charles was offering a feast and a place to sleep, it was hardly worth turning down, and Carl realised he was never going to win that argument. After being dressed in some of Charles' finest clothes as he always hated seeing them in their furs, Charles escorted them into the grandest feasting hall they'd ever seen.

It took up a whole floor, along with the adjoining rooms and buildings required to effectively serve a group that large, and it was near to the main public baths in the garden. The tables were arranged in a rectangle, with a few openings to allow dancers, musicians and entertainers into the centre while the guests dined. The hall was decorated with various fertility symbols, as Lupercalia was upon them, and the food spread on the tables looked fabulous. As was tradition, some priests dressed in goat skins chased some naked slave girls around the tables, trying to hit them with their floggers.

"I have always enjoyed your parties, Charles. What's the occasion this time?" Carl said as one of the slave girls gave him a flirtatious wink as she ran past him.

"Lupercalia! Only one of the grandest festivals of Old Rome. My boys, this is what you're missing. Come, there will be feasting, and fucking, and rejoicing in the name of Lupa!" Charles said as he led them to the table.

"This is definitely my kind of party," Trevor said, nodding in approval.

Bev laughed and Ace wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they took their seats. They were served with some wine, and they wasted little time in filling the gilded plates before them. As Ace tasted the wine, he had a niggling feeling that he was being fucked with, that this was all some sort of strange dream, but the feeling didn’t last and he didn’t think of it again.

The food was wonderful, and accompanied by the slave girls who attended to their every needs, they were definitely not going without anything. Trevor had taken a shine to a brunette who giggled as he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew him close, distracting her from pouring him more wine. She didn't speak his language, but he didn't care. She twirled her fingers in his hair and seemed to like that he was bragging about being some sort of important consul from Rome. He wasn't sure she really bought it, but she didn't protest and kept kissing his neck as he feasted.

* * *

The feast was, admittedly, a rather fitting distraction. So much so that Charles didn't notice that Andrew was missing until a couple of hours later. He had told him he was to go and prepare the concubines for the feast tonight, which didn't seem like a task that should take that long. Perhaps he should go and check to see if his occasionally disobedient slave had bothered to follow his orders tonight. If not, well, he would just have to punish the disobedient little whelp.

Irritated, he left the party and headed into the gardens. He found Andrew wandering up from the slave house, dreamy smile on his face. Charles did notice he was alone, but thought nothing of it. The new slaves should be in the slave house with the rest of them. Maybe he should go and see them too, just to make sure they were still there. Maybe Andrew had betrayed him to the Emperor. It was always possible. He had been behaving in a very disobedient way recently.

"What are you doing down here anyway? Are the girls ready? The party is somewhat lonely without them," Charles said, turning Andrew around as they headed back towards the slave house, grasping his arm tightly.

"Ohhh, sure, you'll love them. Fairies, master! Ohhh, the sex was amazing!" Andrew drawled as they walked.

"You're drunk again. How many times have I told you not to touch the alcohol down there? It's for parties, not for you pathetic slaves," Charles said. "You know I'm going to have to punish you for that."

Andrew wasn't sure what he was talking about. "I'm not drunk, master, I promise I ain't touched the wine! It was them fairies, master, ohh yes, those fairies, they're wonderful. All mine, they are. Mine!"

"There's no such thing as fairies. What nonsense. You can stay down here until the party's over and sober up. That'll teach you to think about getting drunk off my wine," Charles said.

Andrew tried to struggle free as Charles dragged him inside the slave house to the dungeons below, but Charles wouldn't budge. Andrew didn't like being punished. The dungeon was cold and dark. Charles stripped him of his finery and shoved him in a small cage. Andrew gripped the bars as he gazed up at his master, silently begging to be free.

"Sometimes, you're more trouble than you're worth. Be thankful I have a party to host. Otherwise I'd flog the life out of you. Stupid disobedient slave. I give you so much trust and freedom and this how you repay me? I think it's time you started acting like a proper slave," Charles said.

Andrew went to reply, to protest his accusations, but Charles just glared at him once more before he turned and left. Andrew was left all alone, shivering in the cool air. He reached through the bars, trying to reach the gown he'd been wearing. It took some effort, but he finally managed to grab it, and he wrapped it around his body, trying to stave off the chill. With nothing else to do, he sat there in the dark, wondering when it had all started to go wrong.

* * *

Carl spotted Roy hanging back against the wall as he poured himself another drink. He had taken a liking to the slave they’d stolen from the villa they’d ransacked and almost felt sorry he had to leave him with Charles. It was the way he was huddled against the wall, avoiding catching anyone’s gaze, that got to him. Carl poured the slave a glass of wine and approached him. Roy glanced up at him, not sure what was going on.

“Here, drink up. That’ll do you some good,” Carl said, offering him the glass.

Roy went to protest, but Carl insisted. Taking the glass, he drank the wine. It was not something he was used to tasting, and it had a strange aftertaste he wasn’t sure he liked. He wiped his mouth and handed the glass back. Carl was closing in on him, a hand on his arm.

Roy had a feeling he knew where this was going. “Go on, then, do your worst. I can’t say no, remember?” Roy said, glancing up at him spitefully.

Carl grinned and brushed a hand across his cheek. “What, and harm a fragile thing like you? You forget I used to be a slave. I’ve seen it all, been through it all before. There’s nothing I can do to you that I haven’t already suffered at their hands. No, I just thought we’d… take a walk outside. You look like you need some air.”

“Yes, master. As you wish.”

* * *

Carl kept a hand on him as they walked as a subtle reminder of who belonged to whom. It was quieter out there away from the revelry. The moon shone down, lighting up the land in her pale glow. There were a few couples they saw, hiding discretely in the shadows, but they didn’t acknowledge each other’s presence. Carl kept walking. Roy wasn’t sure where they were going, or why, but he wasn’t going to say no to a walk. Then again, he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to. Slaves don’t have that choice.

They stopped at the far end of the garden near the hedge labyrinth that wound its way around the back of the villa. There was a stone bench that sat near the entrance, looking back over the rest of the garden. They were obscured from view by some strategically placed bushes. Carl invited him to sit, but Roy couldn’t bring himself to sit down beside him, as if they were equals, and instead sat down on the ground at his feet. Carl stroked his hair gently. Roy wondered what he’d done to earn this sort of attention.

“You killed my master, and my mistress, and the only family I’ve ever known. You killed the kindest man who ever walked the earth. The gods will punish you for that,” Roy murmured. He didn’t sound angry; he had no capacity for it.

“Their gods are not my gods, nor are they your gods, either. It matters not,” Carl said, dismissively.

“What good are gods when they abandon you to a life of slavery? No, they left me when I left my homeland. I have been alone ever since,” Roy said, absently picking at the grass beside him.

“Who were your gods anyway? What did you call them?”

“What do you care? It doesn’t matter anymore. They are dead, and so are my people. Barbarians have crushed us into extinction. I speak this filthy language because I have forgotten my own. I will never see my homeland again. I will die in this foreign land, away from my people, my culture, my family, and no one will live to remember my name. I will be lost to the Shadowlands, a mournful ghost without anyone to care for him. Maybe I will go mad. That’s what my grandmother used to tell us. That’s why the ancestors are so important. We remember them so they do not go mad from being abandoned and forgotten. But I’ll go mad, I’m sure of it. My family are so far away, if they still live. I am nothing. Do with me what you will. It’s not like anyone will care,” Roy said, ashamed he had tears welling in his eyes. Homesickness had hit him hard, and he felt his isolation more than ever.

Carl patted the bench again. “Come on, sit beside me. Tell me all about your homeland.”

Roy hesitated a moment before joining him. He tried to remember the stories his grandmother had told him before he’d had to leave, all the stories of their people. He gazed down at the blue tattoos covering his body and wanted to cry again, ashamed at what he’d become. His whole ancestry was written on his body if you knew how to read it properly.

“No, I don’t want to talk about it. It’ll just make me sad. I’ll never go home, so I try not to think about it. The longer I stay here, the more Roman I become. Maybe one day the gods of this country will look upon me as one of their own,” Roy said, staring at the ground.

“Oh, I reckon the gods like you just fine, you just can’t hear them. Here, you want to know if you’ll go home? I’ll ask my gods about it,” Carl said, digging out some small carved sticks with markings on them Roy didn’t recognise or understand.

Roy looked away in disgust. “Heathenry. Why would you bring that here? If my own gods will not answer me, what hope have I that your gods even care enough to answer me?”

Carl chuckled a little and shook the sticks in his hand before tossing them onto the ground before him. They landed in a particular manner and Roy did venture a look, even if he had no idea what he was looking for. He watched Carl scratch the positions of the sticks in a patch of dirt before throwing the sticks again, three more times, just to be sure. They kept landing in the same position.

“Well, there’s your answer,” Carl concluded, indicating the sticks lying on the ground before him.

Roy came and knelt beside him. “What does it mean? How do I know this isn’t just some silly magic trick?”

“You saw how they landed. That’s no trick. That’s the gods answering our question. You will go home, and you will be remembered. They’re not telling me when, but I didn’t ask that of them. Just know that one day, you’ll return to your homeland. That’s about all I can tell you,” Carl said.

Roy got to his feet and looked over the garden. “Sounds a bit silly to me, throwing sticks to tell the future.”

Carl gathered them up and joined him. “Many things sound silly to those who don’t understand them.”

“Why’d you bring me out here anyway? Don’t you even want me now, after all that talk?” Roy said.

“I never wanted to sleep with you. Like I said, been through it all before, and got out alive. You might be a slave but that doesn’t mean I have to treat you like shit. I’m not a Roman citizen. What do they care?” Carl said. “Come on, let’s get back. They’ll wonder where we are if we’re gone too long.”

Roy nodded his agreement, and Carl led him back to the dining hall. Roy didn’t speak, not that he was sure what he’d say if he did. The gods were still silent. What hope was there that Carl was even telling the truth? _Because he is_ , Roy heard in the back of his mind, but that was probably just the wine talking.

* * *

Trevor was always pleased to know he wasn't the first to start fucking at the tables as his wonderful brunette went from kissing his neck to something far more intimate. Trevor blamed the wine, but he hardly cared. She was beautiful, and she didn't even mind when he pulled her dress half off as they started fucking. He wasn't sure he'd stick with her the entire evening, but she was more than enough for the moment.

Carl had found his own girl, a young Greek slave who was currently draped over his lap while he fed her grapes. He was in love with the way her body writhed and shifted under his touch, and she seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself with him. She gazed up at him, smiling coyly, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He held her back, utterly entranced.

Making up for the fact that Andrew was now locked in a cage, a rather grumpier Charles made do with a couple of young bucks he'd just picked up from a market in Athens. They were young, strong, and very beautiful. They weren't Andrew, but they would do, and he lay back in his chair as one of them slipped beneath his toga, and the other caressed his chest as he kissed him.

The music grew louder and more frenetic, and the girls in the middle danced with even more eroticism, coaxing some of the male guests to come and dance with them. Bev wasn't sure if it was supposed to be part of the celebrations, or just an excuse to dance, but he didn't reject the invitation to dance either, and he and Ace found themselves drawn to their feet by some rather ravishing women and brought to the middle. They didn't immediately pair off, and the music was accompanied by swirling ribbons and singing and perhaps it was the wine, but there was definitely something happening out there in the middle, Bev was sure of it. His head was giddy, but he didn't feel faint. He kept on dancing, scooping up one of the girls as he spun her around in his arms.

And if any of them noticed the room around them was quickly fading from view and bright coloured lights were surrounding them like some sort of barrier, neither cared. They could've been anywhere. All they knew was that there was a surge in the music and the singing, and the next thing, they were back in the slave house, their chosen girls lying seductively on the bed beneath them.

That niggling sense that he was being fucked with came to Ace’s mind again, but the girl he was with drew him into a kiss and suddenly it didn't matter as she slipped her tunic off her shoulders and offered herself to him. Ace wasn't used to being seduced, but she was so very good at it, and she was warm and inviting and it felt so good to be inside her, pinning her down as he fucked her.

Bev's girl was not so submissive, and he found himself overpowered as she straddled him. Then again, he liked a girl with a bit of spirit. She pretended she was a goddess and he was to worship her. She had him on his knees soon enough, begging for her blessings. Bev felt she looked so beautiful, she might very well be a goddess.

Bev didn't notice the collar she slipped around his neck at first. She had been nipping at his collar bone, her hands tickling the back of his neck, but he didn't mind. She wanted obedience, and she was going to get it. He was more than willing to play along as she cemented her dominance, treating him however she wished, and he took it all gladly because she kept promising sex and the greatest pleasure she had to give if he just did this one last thing for her...

* * *

The warmth faded, and Bev was thrown into a cold dark room. Everything ached now, as if whatever he'd thought he'd been doing was just a fantasy in his head. His mind felt hazy and confused, and he wasn't sure what had happened. He turned to the doorway and saw a woman walking towards him. He squinted, trying to see who she was. The bright light behind her obscured her features. She had a whip in one hand and smacked his side with it as she approached. Bev shied away in fear, his knees scraping against the hard rocky floor.

"Such a bad dog. You need some discipline," the woman said, her voice harsh and cruel.

Bev wasn't sure he liked where this was going. She knelt before him and he struggled as she secured a leather muzzle around his head, clamping his mouth shut. It bit into his skin, and he pawed at it in vain as he tried to relieve the itching.

-Wait, was he a dog now? He gazed down at his hands and saw furry paws and a furry body and, turning his head, a furry tail. It felt real enough, but it was hard to tell. Maybe he was just imagining things. Certainly, none of this felt plausible, but at the same time, it was hard to doubt the pain he was feeling. He whimpered as she attached a leash to the collar around his neck and dragged him to his feet.

His feet hurt, he discovered, as he was forced to walk along beside her down into a corridor flooded with bright golden light. Walking was not easy, and he was not used to walking on all fours. He tripped a few times, falling over his feet. She corrected him and kept going. He had no choice but to obey. He didn't want to go down there, down to the room at the end, and he tugged on the leash as he tried to pull away, but she was too firm with him, and smacked his thigh with her whip to stop him struggling.

Completely terrified of what she might do to him, or what she might make him do, he obeyed, tail between his legs. If it was indeed a tail he could feel down there. He still wasn't entirely sure he wasn't just dreaming. Too much wine at the party or something. Yes. That had to be it.

* * *

Trevor didn't know where she'd come from, but she was utterly beautiful. The chains holding him against the wall disappeared and the cage door swung open. She didn't speak, but she did gesture him forward. He followed, desperate to be out of those chains. She led him don a long dark corridor towards a shining room at the end. Golden light shone through the gaps in the door onto the surrounding walls, promising nothing but good things for whoever walked inside. She took his hand as she led him to the door.

The room was bright and warm, richly furnished with the grandest furnishings he could imagine. She led him inside and lay him down on the bed as she slowly undressed him. The bed was soft and comfortable and she slipped her shimmering gown off as she came into his arms, kissing him gently as she caressed his skin. He wanted her so badly, but she was in no hurry to rush and held a wrist down against the mattress to assert her control.

"Don't worry, mamma's got you now. Just let go and let me take all that horrid pain away," she murmured against his neck.

Her skin was warm and beautiful and her hair, curled and blonde, fell down her shoulders and tickled his skin. Everything about her was beautiful. He became aware that there was a lot of pain in his body, but the more she touched him, the more it went away. He watched in amazement as wounds disappeared and his body healed. And when she finally let him slip inside her, he had never felt so utterly wonderful in his life.

He was dizzy with lust, and she did everything he could ever have wanted. Everything about her was perfect, and she even allowed him to be a little rough with her as he shifted their positions and pinned her down. She was so real, and so warm, and his head was spinning. He wasn’t sure sex was supposed to do that, but he didn’t particularly care. Maybe he’d had too much wine, though he didn’t believe you could ever have too much wine. There was always room for another glass, especially during sex. He’d brought a jar of wine from the party and indulged heartily as he fucked her, drinking in the heady lust.

Just as he came, Trevor realised he was alone, lying on his back as he stared up at the ceiling. He was still in the shining room, but he was alone. And there was a great pain in his neck. He reached a hand up and all he saw was blood. It was flowing down his chest and shoulder and down onto the sheets below him. He began to feel woozy and faint, and he felt death was just around the corner. He shivered as he grew cold and his vision blacked out. If he woke from this, it would be a miracle and the Gods did love him after all.

* * *

_Jeff's villa urbana, inside the city of Rome_  
Dhani was still asleep when the message arrived. Jeff normally wouldn't have woken him, but he felt it cruel to leave him in the dark as much as he wanted to spare him the pain. He sat on the bed, gently stroking Dhani's hair as he woke him.

Dhani stirred but didn't open his eyes. "'zat you, Jeff? Whaddyou want?"

"Got a message for you. From - from Neapolis," Jeff said.

Dhani rolled over and faced him, concerned. "Neapolis? From my parents? What do they want?"

Jeff looked away from him and out the window. It was a struggle to contain his own grief from him. He didn't want to tell him, but he had a right to know. He took a moment to settle his emotions before he spoke, keeping his voice quiet and soft. "There was an attack on the villa two nights ago. No one survived."

Dhani sat up. "No. You're kidding me. Jeff, that is not the sort of news you wake me up for."

Jeff rested a hand on his arm. "I wish I was lying, and I almost didn't tell you, but I didn't want you to be the last to know."

Dhani was silent, shifting away from Jeff as he took in what he'd been told. It didn't seem real. It didn't-

Dhani looked at Jeff, his heart breaking. "Oli was there. I sent him there in my place, to stay a few days, and-"

Words failed him. Jeff held him close as he wept.

* * *

As the news spread through the palace, an air of melancholy spread with it, and a determined senselessness. No one could understand why it had happened. The Emperor was none too pleased, and angrily sent more troops to hunt down the barbarians who had committed the act. While he was implored to deal with other more important matters of state, the Emperor was having none of it and took one of his best generals and close confidante Tom with him to visit Jeff and Dhani. Whatever else was happening could wait.

Jeff bowed to the Emperor before embracing him warmly, wishing they had met in better circumstances. They'd been through a lot together, wars and riots and strife unimaginable, but somehow this blow seemed much worse than the rest combined.

"How's he doing?" The Emperor said.

"Oli was there. Poor lad's traumatised. I think he's in shock still," Jeff said softly as he led him down to their rooms.

"Oh, not him too? I really liked that kid. I was going to free him next time he came to court."

They stopped in the doorway. Dhani stood by the window, gazing out over the gardens. He didn't move when he heard them enter.

"It's all my fault, you know. I sent Oli there. I told him to go. I sent him to his death," Dhani murmured.

Jeff approached him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You couldn't have known what was going to happen. It wasn't your fault."

The Emperor came and stood beside him, glancing over at him.

Dhani didn't look at him, ashamed to face him. "Don't you have Senate business to attend to? Why are you here, Caesar?"

"The Senate can survive without me. You, on the other hand, have a greater need of me than they do."

Dhani turned to face him. The Emperor took his hands and caught his gaze. He brought him into his arms as he began to cry. "What am I going to do? I've got no one left. The Gods have taken everything from me," Dhani said.

"You'll inherit your father's lands, and all his wealth. His Senate seat is yours, if you wish to take it," The Emperor said, stroking his hair gently.

Dhani moved back a little and looked at him. "Don't - don't talk to me about that now. Can't it wait til I've had time to bury them?"

"Of course. I know it won't bring them back, but it's better than nothing. You gonna stay with Jeff?"

"He knows he can stay as long as he likes, don't you, Dhani?" Jeff said, resting his hand in the small of his back.

Dhani leaned against him. "Yeah, I'll stay with Jeff. It's not like I've got anywhere else to go. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with right now."

"He's already a member of the household. He'll be alright. I'll take care of him," Jeff said.

"You're always welcome at the palace, Dhani. Never forget that. I loved your dad. He was a real special guy. Whoever attacked the villa will be punished, you can count on that. I won't let his death go unpunished," The Emperor said, squeezing his shoulder gently.

"Thanks. I know it's little consolation, but thanks again. You've given my family great blessings," Dhani said.

"It's nothin', kid. Shall we go to the baths? We've got some discussion to do. You're welcome to join us, Dhani, if you feel up to it," The Emperor said.

Dhani bowed to him. "Thanks, I don't really feel like being alone right now."

The Emperor brought them both into his arms before they made their way to the bath house. Dhani was still grieving, but at least he was amongst close friends. It would be hard, but he would be able to face it with them by his side. He knew he would call on Jeff to collar him more than usual; he needed his discipline to keep him under control because he didn't think he was capable of doing so himself. He made a note to talk to him about it later on when they were alone.

* * *

Jeff offered incense to the household gods before he allowed them to enter the baths. They stood a moment, saying a silent prayer for Dhani's parents. The Emperor offered a spoken prayer, requesting the Gods to intercede and bring justice for him. With another handful of incense thrown onto the coals, Dhani let his prayers drift off to the Heavens.

The rooms were already steaming and hot, and Dhani found them relaxing. He was not Jeff's slave this time. He was in the presence of Caesar's two top Generals and Caesar himself. No, this time he was just a grieving son who was in need of comfort. He sat beside Jeff, curled into his embrace, as the oils and the incense and the heat took over.

Tom stretched and lay back against the wall of the pool. "You reckon we'll find them? The ones who did it? Can't be that many barbarian gangs left in the Empire, surely. I've wiped most of them out myself."

"Oh, I know who did it. Charles, of course. Mad bastard. You and Jeff go pay him a visit for me, will you? Tell him if he doesn't give up his assassins, I'll have him thrown to the lions. Ahh, I might throw him to the lions anyway even if he does give them up. Annoying prick," The Emperor said, rubbing his temples.

"Charles? Who's Charles?" Dhani asked.

"All you need to know about him is that he believes his family should be on the throne, and has repeatedly tried to claim it from me. I thought he was just a pretender at first, but I think he’s a madman, and the Gods have destroyed his mind. He lives in the mountains down south, least he did last time I heard. Telesia, wasn't it, Jeff?" The Emperor said.

"Yeah, that's the place. It's been abandoned for decades, some sort of plague went through there, and the land is considered cursed," Jeff said.

Dhani was intrigued. "Telesia? That's near Neapolis, well, it's a day's travel from it. I've heard about that place. Said to be haunted by ghosts."

"I'd suggest ghosts were the least of your worries down there. No one dares demolish the old villas, so they just sit there, abandoned and empty. Some say the old Gods in the chapels have gone mad from the lack of attention. Dangerous place. Pasithea is said to rule over it, and an old temple to Her is said to exist somewhere up there in the mountains," Jeff said.

  
"Pasithea? I thought she had been outlawed. Why are there still temples dedicated to her worship? I thought we'd destroyed them all," Tom said.

"Her worship has been banned for decades, her and her consort. They are never to be worshipped, or their names uttered. They are too dangerous. Part of my daily temple rituals involves asking the Gods to keep them subjugated. Jupiter says they are both locked away, but you can never be sure, not with them," The Emperor said.

"I want to go with you when you go visit him. I want to meet him," Dhani said.

"Nah, you don't want to go down there. Too dangerous. I'd not risk your life in such a place. No, best stay here with the Emperor. He'll look after you," Jeff said.

"I'm not a child, Jeff. Not anymore. Let me go with you," Dhani said.

Jeff gazed down at him. "Alright. You know how to fight? I'm not taking you if you can't defend yourself."

"You know I was never taught to fight. I was educated to become a Senator like my father," Dhani said, fighting back tears.

Jeff hugged him tight. "Aww, Dhani, you know I'm just looking out for ya, don’t you? I'd rather you were here and safe in the Emperor's protection than out in dangerous territory with me. I'm afraid that you might be in real danger if we go out there now. They may have meant to kill you too when they attacked your father's villa, and I'd rather not risk your life over something this stupid."

Dhani knew he was right. The night they'd attacked was the night he too was supposed to be at the villa. If he had not delayed his visit, he too would have died. It was certainly enough to make him doubt his desire to come. Maybe he should stay behind with the Emperor. Jeff and Tom could handle it. They were veterans of many battles and campaigns. There wasn't much they couldn't face.

"You come stay with me, Dhani, just while they're away. We haven't had some time to ourselves for months. I'll help you organise your parents' burial and get their affairs in order. I'd wager you need someone strong to get you through that, hey?" The Emperor said.

"Alright, I'll go stay with Caesar while you're off hunting ghosts. Just come back to me in one piece, okay? I've lost more than enough family for one day," Dhani said.

"I know you have, kid. Don't worry, we'll sort it out," Tom said, ruffling Dhani's hair.

* * *

_The Emperor's Imperial Palace, Rome_  
Jeff and Tom had set off that evening. The Emperor hadn't wanted them to delay, fearing Charles might come after them first. Dhani reluctantly went back to the palace with the Emperor, and while he was sad to leave Jeff, he knew he was amongst friends. He was far safer in the palace than at home on his own without Jeff around. He did like the palace. It had many beautiful quiet areas to retreat to if he needed some space for himself. There was a particular part of the gardens that his father had always been particularly fond of, and once dinner was over, a grand feast that had lasted well into the night, he sought his leave and headed out there.

The air was cooler, and the scent of sweet flowers drifted on the breeze. There was a stone bench near a pool that he rather liked and he sat there under the moonlight. He still had his collar with him, locked away in its box. He wanted to destroy it. He felt he was shaming his father for even daring to wear it, but he knew he'd never be able to do so. Jeff was all he had left now, and he loved the peace wearing the collar brought to him. He wasn't his father's son then, he was just Dhani, just a collared slave, just willing to please his master. Life was simple, and it was nice to escape. When Oli was around, he used to sleep in the slaves quarters with him. But not anymore. Now all he had was Jeff. Oli was gone, his parents were gone, and there was nothing he could do to bring them back.

There were all sorts of emotions running around his head, and he had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling. Well, grief, obviously. He was allowed to be sad and miss the ones he'd lost, but it didn't kill the guilt. He wasn't sure he could rationalise the guilt. He'd sent Oli to his death, he was voluntarily Jeff's slave, and now he was all that was left of his family's line. He had too many decisions to make, too much resting on his shoulders. He would take his father's Senate seat, of course, because it was expected of him. He would inherit his father's lands, and eventually rebuild the farm with what money he had left. And he still had to find the strength to travel down to Neapolis and sort out the crypt. It was too much too soon, and with Jeff away, he didn't think he could cope with any of it until he was back. He badly wanted to just wear Jeff's collar and remain at his feet until it was all over. He wasn't ready for all this responsibility, and he wasn't sure when he would be.

He set the box aside, resting a hand on top of it. That box contained his deepest secret. It was improper for him to wear a collar as he was a patrician, a Roman citizen, and not a slave. He wasn’t even a concubine. No, he was not in any sort of position for such a thing to be acceptable in any circumstance, and if anyone at the palace should find out, he would be ridiculed and he would never be a Senator. The scandal would ruin him, and he had too much at stake now to put that at risk.

The Emperor approached him and took a seat beside him. "Your dad loved it out here, you know."

"I know. That's why I'm out here. Needed some space to think," Dhani said.

The Emperor glanced over at him. "I know about you and Jeff, you know. You don't need to hide it from me."

Dhani picked up the box and held it close. "I suppose you know what's inside here, don't you? Did Jeff tell you? I wouldn't be surprised if he did."

"You have my confidence. Don't worry, I'll never tell. And no, I don't know what's in the box. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," the Emperor said.

"You shouldn't have sent him away. I need him right now, and he's not here. There's too much to deal with. I don't know if I can cope with it all," Dhani said. He hesitated a moment before continuing. "I want to show you what's in the box, but not here. Somewhere where no one will see us."

"Come with me. I know just the place," The Emperor said.

* * *

The Emperor led him to a small private room at the back of the palace. At the Emperor's request, any staff who were around were sent away, and they had the room to themselves. It was a sweet little room, basic but with its own rich decorations. It was enough, and Dhani got the sense the Emperor liked to spend time alone in there. Any windows had thick curtains draped over them, preventing anyone looking inside. The Emperor invited him to sit on the lounge and Dhani sat, still clutching the box close to his chest.

"So, you gonna show me what's in that box? It's clearly very precious to you," the Emperor said.

"No one but Jeff knows about this, and that's how I'd like it to stay," Dhani said before opening the box. "It's my collar. When I'm with Jeff, I take the role of his slave. It's... comforting. Peaceful. It's what I need right now, but he's not here, so I'm all alone."

Dhani lifted the collar out and looked over it again. It was beautiful and he wanted to wear it again, but he never did so without Jeff's permission.

"May I see it?" Dhani handed him the collar and looked away, ashamed. "Sure."

The Emperor took it and inspected it. It was good quality leather, fit for one of Jeff's slaves. He raised an eyebrow at the year embossed on the front. "Three years? That's longer than I'd have guessed. Would you wear it for me? I wanna see what you look like."

Dhani took it off him again and fastened it around his neck. It was one of the few times he'd been asked to put it on himself. Normally Jeff collared him. He bowed his head, his mind willing to be a slave, even in the presence of the Emperor. Especially in the presence of the Emperor.

The Emperor reached over and stroked his hair gently. "You have been doing this a long time, haven't you? I know I'm not Jeff, but if you want me to take his place, just until he gets back, I'll do that for you. I did promise to look after you in his absence."

Dhani looked up at him, surprised. He wasn't sure it was what he wanted, but he knew if he didn't slave now, he might never cope with everything he had to deal with. "Of course you are my master. I doubt he would let anyone else take over. You are Caesar, after all," Dhani said, falling to his knees before him.

"You tell me what you need me to do. I promise, it'll never leave this room," The Emperor said.

With nothing left to lose, Dhani told him everything.

* * *

_Charles Firth's villa, Telesia_  
Andrew lay on the floor, grinning at the ceiling. When it became clear Charles wasn’t coming any time soon, Ace decided it was time to leave. Quietly, Ace pulled Roy to his feet. They grabbed their clothes and snuck out down the hall away from Andrew. Ace pulled Roy into another room so they were out of sight. Roy kept quiet. It was still dangerous, and if the slave house wasn't as empty as he'd thought, they could still be captured. Ace kept checking to see if anyone was coming as they dressed as silently as they could.

"You know, I really don't like this place. It's too... empty. Where are the people? The slaves and concubines? The rest of the family who lived here with him? No, something is definitely not right here. Can't you feel it?" Ace murmured.

"I don't know, I've never lived in a villa like this before. I only know the farm, and the farm never had that many people in it," Roy said, keeping his voice low.

"I think we should take a look around. A proper look. Don't worry, the magic won't break for hours yet. He will be perfectly occupied, and as far as I can tell, he and Charles are the only real people in this entire villa. But that doesn't mean we're not in any danger. Just stick close and don't say a word," Ace said.

The slave house really was huge. There were three storeys. The ground floor was almost entirely taken up with a large central chamber, baths, and a few small chapels dedicated to various local deities. The next two levels contained proper sleeping chambers, where, supposedly, the concubines would be sleeping. However, they were all empty. They didn't find a single soul in the entire building. Certainly, the main manor house had staff, but no one seemed to be attending the slave house. They stopped on a balcony on the top floor. It overlooked the magnificent gardens below, all trim and proper, with some baths down one end and a small chapel down the other end.

"You've got to admit this place is strange. Why would it be empty? There's no sign that anyone lives here at all. Charles has always been known for having a large collection of concubines, so where are they?" Ace said.

"Have you ever actually seen it before tonight? Maybe he was just making it up," Roy said as he looked at him.

"I have seen it before. Trevor and I snuck down here during a party two years ago. But ... It was full of people. There were people everywhere, slaves by the dozens, just sitting around waiting for Charles to call on them. Where did they all go?"

Roy shivered. "I think we should get out of here. I don't like the feel of this place."

"My thoughts exactly." Ace paused a moment. "Come on, let's go find my friends and we'll get out of here."

* * *

They didn't see anyone as they approached the manor house. A guard by the back entrance stopped them, but Ace sweet-talked him into letting them pass. Inside, the house was dark and cold. Quiet. There seemed to be little activity going on, though given the hour, that was hardly surprising. Ace made them go slowly, hiding behind pillars and in small rooms whenever they saw someone. The manor, at least was staffed, though even then, there seemed to be fewer slaves than Ace had anticipated. After a quick stop in the kitchens to steal some food, they continued their search.

Ace found his friends sleeping in some rooms on the top floor, hidden away on the far side of the house. They hid one more time as some guards checked in on their sleeping guests before leaving for the rest of the house. Ace took his chance and slipped into the first room, Roy in tow.

Carl was sleeping there, curled up on a small bed by the far end of the wall. He had been stripped and dressed in a simple plain tunic that didn't provide anything near enough warmth. He didn’t look too badly injured, though there were a few bruises and cuts that Ace could see. None looked serious. Ace knelt by the bed and shook him awake. Carl blinked at him and rubbed his eyes. It was then that Ace noticed the chains on his wrists.

"Ace? What on earth are you doing here?" Carl murmured.

"Why are you all chained up? Is Charles refusing to let you leave?" Ace said.

Carl sat up as best he could. He dared not speak above a whisper in case he was caught. "You should've seen him. Just after we left, his men grabbed us and took us down to one of his dungeons. Charles turned up and told us we weren't leaving, that he couldn't let us leave. We were too dangerous to let loose on the roads. We might've been seen." There was a pause as the guards passed again. "What were we to do? We couldn't escape. I was chained up and sent up here. I assumed Trevor and Bev would follow me, but I don't think I've heard them arrive. I’m worried about them."

Ace turned to Roy. "Check the other rooms. Don't let them catch you. Come back and tell me if they're in there."

Roy nodded and slipped out. Ace watched him go, turning back to Carl once he was out of sight.

"Well, this complicates things. I was going to suggest getting the hell out of here. This place is creepy, don't you think? His slave house is completely empty. There's no one down there at all. What happened to the hundreds of slaves he kept down there before? Something isn't right about this place, but I can't put a finger on what that is just yet," Ace said.

Carl looked confused. "There aren’t any concubines? Charles was famous for his slave girls. You sure they weren't just all sleeping?"

"We checked every room. There's no one living there. I don't think anyone's lived in there for months. Weird, hey?"

"Now that is weird. Maybe he fell on hard times. Maybe he had to sell them off or something. Stranger things have happened," Carl said.

"Not much is stranger than this place. There's a chapel to Pasithea in the gardens. I noticed it as we were coming up here. Of all the Gods above to have a chapel to, why Her? No one has chapels to Pasithea anymore. Not since-" Ace stopped mid-sentence. Things were beginning to make sense, but there were still many things he didn't understand. "I've got to go see that chapel," Ace decided.

"How are you going to get there without being caught? Aren't you supposed to live in the slave house now?" Carl said.

"Sorry I never told you before, but I'm the real fairy, not Roy. I sent Andrew into a magical drunken stupor. That's how we escaped. He won't come out of that for days," Ace said.

"Okay, I'm just going to pretend you're making sense and this is a nice surreal dream I'm having as I'm on the way down south to Sicilia where the sun is warm and there's girls there to meet us and we'll never be found out again," Carl said, lying back down.

Ace smiled and stroked his hair gently. He shifted as Roy returned. "Anyone in there?"

Roy shook his head. "They're not there. The other rooms are empty too. Your friends must be elsewhere. Also, there aren't any guards out there. The whole floor is empty."

"What do you mean the whole floor's empty? We passed some servants sleeping in one of the rooms," Ace said.

"They're not there. The whole floor is empty, except for us three, and I don't recall any of us hearing anyone being called into service," Roy said. He sat beside Ace and looked at them both, wondering what on earth was going on.

"Hang on. Let me go look," Ace said and disappeared.

"He's not going to find anyone," Roy said confidently.

It didn't take Ace long to check and he stood in the doorway, utterly confused. "Okay. What's going on here? I can see those two women sleeping in that room. Why can't you? Come on, Carl. Get up. I want to see if you can see them too."

"You know, I'm really very comfortable down here. I'm not getting up unless you get these chains off me," Carl said.

"Alright, alright, gimme a sec," Ace murmured as he attended to the chains. They were easy to remove, and didn't even require any magic. The locks were poor and took little effort to pick. Carl sat up once he was free, rubbing his wrists. Roy helped him up and together they left with Ace to return to the room with the sleeping servants.

It was situated halfway down the floor and it was an expansive room, the sort where you would entertain guests over a feast. There were cushions, rugs and chairs all around, and a fire burning brightly in the centre. Off to one side, there were two women sleeping on some cushions on the floor, rugs brought around them to stave off the chill.

"See? Over there. Can't you see them?" Ace said, pointing at them.

"There's no one in the room, Ace. You're imagining things," Carl said.

"But - you paused before. You heard guards. Didn't you?" Ace said.

Carl glanced at him. "I paused because you did. I thought you'd heard something."

"Why can I see them and you two can't? What kind of strange magic is this?" Ace said.

He sniffed the air, seeing if he could trace the magic, but it told him nothing. Curious, Ace walked over to where the two women were and went to wake them, but they vanished into thin air as soon as he touched them. He straightened, wondering what was going on.

"Now that's unusual. I wonder what's-"

Ace turned to find himself alone. Carl and Roy had vanished too, and the lamps that had been lit in the chamber had gone out. The only light came from the moonlight, shining in through the balcony. A soft voice sung through the air, and Ace listened carefully, trying to trace it and its owner.

"Pasithea? Is that you? Or perhaps one of your minions? What do you want with me?" Ace said, addressing the voice in the air.

The soft voice turned to laughter. There was a shrill cry before Ace found himself knocked out.

* * *

Roy landed hard onto a hedge outside in the gardens. He had the wind knocked from him and he lay there still as he caught his breath again. He wondered how he had ended up in the gardens. He didn't remember anything unusual happening. He had just been talking to Carl and Ace and then-

It was a struggle to get up. The hedge didn't support his weight, and he gained a few nasty scratches as he disentangled himself from the plants. Finally, he got free and looked around. It still looked like Charles' villa, and it was deep into the night by all accounts. Music drifted through the air towards him. He turned to see where it might be coming from and saw a feast being served at the other end of the gardens. A low long table had been covered in food and it was surrounded by a strange selection of creatures who were feasting and singing by firelight. Suddenly overcome by hunger, Roy approached them.

A satyr got to his feet as he approached, offering him some wine. "Come, dear boy, the feast awaits you! 'Tis Bacchanalia tonight and He shall be greatly honoured! Come, sit, and indulge your desires."

It was an offer too irresistible to refuse, and Roy let the satyr sit him down beside him and offer him everything that was in front of him. Roy had no idea where to start. He had never been allowed to eat such wonderful food before and he wanted to taste all of it. He tasted a little of everything, and had his fill of wine, laughing at the Centaur who was prancing around before them in a ritual dance that involved getting tangled up in ribbons and tripping over his own damn hooves.

As the night progressed, the dancing began. Roy found himself dancing with the satyr again, and he picked him up in his arms as they danced. A rather ravishing nymph asked for his hand, and Roy was forced to leave the satyr to his own kind and take her hand instead. She had the most hypnotic eyes he'd ever seen, and the fact that she wanted to dance with him was mind-blowing. I'm just a slave, he kept repeating, why would you want to dance with me? And she would lean in close and whisper in his ear and soon Roy wanted nothing more than to be with her forever.

They ended up over by the small chapel. She pressed him against the wall and kissed him. She ran a hand through his tangled hair as she leant in to whisper to him again.

"Do you know why I like slaves? They're so very subservient, so very submissive. I like it when my lovers are submissive. It makes things so much more... entertaining," she whispered, a fingernail scraping down his neck.

Roy didn't even feel the collar slip around his neck, but he did feel the shackles close around his wrists. He was suddenly afraid. He was caught again. What on earth would this woman do to him?

"Shh, don't worry, pet. I just wanna play with you," she cooed. "You just have to obey me completely. If you don't, I'll make you bleed and scream and you'll never escape from my wrath."

Roy saw the demon in her eyes and accepted her dominance. She smiled at him again and kissed him, and he didn't even feel her nails digging into his skin, drawing blood.

* * *

Ace found himself in a vast temple. The pillars were grand and lay a path towards the God's icon at the highest point of the temple. It was a huge carved marble statue, painted bright colours as if she were real. Ace recognised her at once as she rose to her feet and stepped away from the throne she had been sitting on. Ace averted his eyes. He was but a fairy, not worthy to look at a Goddess. She stood over him, gazing down at him.

"So. You appear to have recognised me. However did a stupid fairy like you manage that?"

"Pasithea. You left the stench of your magic all over that villa. It wasn't difficult," Ace replied.

"Kneel, despicable, wicked fairy. Show some respect and speak to me in my own glorious language. I do not care for your filthy barbaric tongue," Pasithea sneered.

Ace was forced to his knees, head bowed in respect and fear. He had no idea if he would ever leave this temple, or her presence, alive. "What do you want with me?" he said, switching to speaking Greek.

Pasithea shrunk to his height, switching her toga for a far more intimate costume. She walked around behind him and ran a finger along his back. His wings unfolded, shaking themselves free as they were forced into existence. The tattoos on his body glowed again. Ace stared at the ground, refusing to look at her. She grasped one of his wings and pulled him to his feet. He cried out in pain, hoping she had not broken the delicate membranes.

"You dare to think you can meddle in my affairs, don't you? Silly little fairy. You have no power in this land. Your magic is useless without the power of your people to believe in it," Pasithea said as she circled him.

Ace did his best to avoid her gaze as she walked, unsure what was going to happen to him. Her fingers walked along his shoulder towards his ear and she leaned in to press a soft kiss on his neck.

"You know, all I have to do is think it and you will see whatever I want you to see. You stink of sex and desire, like all fairies do, and your wickedness is what has condemned you to extinction. Belief fades, and fairies die, and soon you will be but figments of someone's imagination, things that once were but are no longer; stripped of your power and name, you will cease to exist. All this I know. I have seen it," Pasithea whispered as she caressed his cheek and brought him into a kiss.

“Yeah, well, wanna know what I’ve seen? Your destruction,” Ace said.

Pasithea laughed. Ace could feel a storm brewing. Pasithea kissed him again as she thought about what she could do to a silly little fairy. She was, after all, a Goddess, and no matter what Jupiter might think, she would never be confined again.

* * *

“That's what they're doing, Carl. They've run away, left you alone, and now you're all I've got left. Disobedient little slaves, the lot of you. I should have you all killed,” Charles said as he watched for a reaction.

Carl didn't look at him. He was in far too much pain to care, and he'd stopped struggling to get free from his restraints long ago. He'd been down here for- actually, he couldn't even remember. Strange dreams had punctuated the pain Charles inflicted on him and he was sure he was drugged. His mind was hazy and confused, and when he opened his eyes, he saw strange things dancing on the wall opposite him. Maybe-maybe it was that-that feast, in the halls where the wine was-it glowed red and purple before he-

"I'm going to kill you, you know. You're not worth selling. Too dangerous for that now. They'd catch me, and you'd talk, you'd tell them everything, and then I'd be in trouble. They'd haul me before Caesar and throw me to the lions and it would be all your fault," Charles said, pressing a knife to his throat.

"I-I don't know... what you're talking about," Carl breathed, and Charles increased the pressure. He cried out as Charles cut into his shoulder, drawing the knife across his skin slowly. The pain was excruciating. Blood oozed down his shoulder from the wound.

"You'll talk, to save your friends. The ones who ran off and left you here alone. They're dancing now, feasting, fucking, free from all this shit. So now all I'm left with is you, and you will pay dearly for your treachery," Charles said.

Carl had no breath to reply. He leaned his head back against the wall and let the pain take over. Surely this would be over soon. Death or freedom, he cared not which came first, just so long as one of them did.

* * *

The first thing Bev became aware of was the icy chill. He didn't think he could move, even if he wanted to. Whatever had happened to him he couldn't guess. His memories were a hazy mix of nightmare and pleasure, and he had long since lost track of what was real and what wasn't. Just when he thought he had it sorted, something came along and made him doubt his decision. He was, however, quite sure he was possibly finally awake. Maybe.

He forced his eyes open. His vision was blurry, and wherever he was, it was definitely dark, though whether this was because it was night time, or because he was in some sort of dungeon, he could not tell. There was a dark figure, perhaps another body, lying some distance away against the wall. There was no way of telling whether it was alive or dead unless he went over to have a look, and he sure as shit didn't feel up to that.

He managed to prop himself up, and he was aware he was filthy and covered in blood. He could taste it in his mouth, a horrid metallic taste that he hated. His claws scraped against the tiles and his body shivered again. His fur was not at all thick enough to cope with this sort of cold. He snarled at the body as if anticipating having to attack it. Eventually, he got on all fours and crawled over to see what it was.

It was a body, mauled and long dead. He lay face down, his limbs askew, and there was a bad wound on his neck and a pool of dry blood surrounding him. Bev sniffed at him and nudged him over with his nose onto his back to see who it was. He yelped and jumped back as Trevor's anguished face looked back at him.

How long had he been lying dead beside him? Why was he still alive? Bev had no answers. All he knew was he had to get out of there. He turned tail and leapt out of the bath, running through the mansion until he could find some way of escape. He ran past guards who seemed to ignore him and he surprised a servant as she carried a tray of food to the master of the house. She nearly dropped the plates on his head, but he dodged out of the way and continued running. Eventually, he found the front courtyard. He sniffed the air again, let out a howl to see if any of his family were around, and continued on to the front gate.

Just as he was passing the stables, a rough hand grasped the back of his neck and lifted him off the ground. He clawed and scratched at his attacker, but they were too strong. They hit his side with a wooden bat and threw him into a small cramped cage. Winded, he lay down as best he could. He was trapped again. He closed his eyes again as something heavy and warm covered him from head to toe. A voice whispered in his ear, a hand gently grasped his shoulder. It was the last thing he remembered before he blacked out again.

* * *

Charles was most surprised to see Julian and his bodyguard Chas riding up to his estate that afternoon. He had not anticipated their arrival but he was sure it would not be to bring him any good news, not from the expression on Julian's face. They rode up to the estate and Charles met them outside.

"You've really done it this time, Charles. I don't know if I can get you out of this. The Emperor already suspects you're behind the attack. He's sending his men down to see you," Julian said as he dismounted.

"Shit! I thought I told those barbarians to stay hidden? They've gone and told on me, haven't they? Bastards. I'll go after them, I'll hunt them down and cut them to pieces," Charles said, trying to take Julian's horse from him and ride off. Chas moved quickly to grab him and drag him away, holding him firmly.

Julian closed in and grasped his chin as he looked him in the eye. "If you aren't careful, they will execute you. I am not just saying that anymore. I can't protect you from this. It's too big. You have to get yourself out of this mess," Julian said.

"But-but I didn't do anything! I just- look, they did the killing, not me. I swear I didn't do anything. They bullied me into it! After jewels and gold, the heathens," Charles said, attempting to deflect blame onto the gang he'd hired.

"No one will believe that. Now, come on, let's go inside and get your story straight before they arrive," Julian said.

Charles whimpered as Julian grasped him by the collar and dragged him along behind him. The trouble he was in hadn't quite sunk in yet, but Julian's reaction told him it was serious. But he still rode down to try and help him, so perhaps there was still hope he could worm his way out of it. Julian would think of a way. He always had plans for situations like these. Charles found himself shoved into his office again, and he cowered before Julian's anger. He had screwed up big time. Chas stood by the doorway, looking all the more fierce thanks to the wolf skins he always wore, stopping him escaping.

"Is there nothing I can trust you with? When did I say you could go and commit murder? Mindless slaughter on innocent people. Your grief is with the Emperor, not his friends. And now you've gone and made him so angry he'll probably kill you anyway. I'm warning you again, Charles, this isn't something I can get you out of, again, just like old times. This is much bigger, and my influence only extends so far. The Emperor doesn't suspect I'm party to your plans, yet, and I'd like it to stay that way. I'm not going down with you for your stupidity, given I warned you about this last year," Julian said.

Charles crawled over to him on his knees and gazed up at him, tears welling in his eyes. "Please, please, you've got to help me. I-I was forced into it. Andrew - my slave Andrew - he made me do it. Go ask him, he gave me the idea. I thought they would just kill them, not kill everyone and burn the place down. I didn't ask for this!"

Julian pulled him to his feet. "I'm warning you now. They're coming, and they aren't happy with you. They're probably not too far behind us either. It's your problem, you deal with it. Our relationship ends here. If you bring me into this too, I will slit your throat, if you're still alive by the time they're done with you. Understand?"

"Yes, yes, of course. I won't blame you. Of course not. I love you too much. You've save my life too many times to betray you like that. Promise. I swear to the Gods I will never betray you," Charles said.

"My eyes are everywhere. I'll know if you've told them about me. Come on, Chas, let's get out of here," Julian said as he let go of Charles.

* * *

Charles fled to the temple in the garden after they'd left. He had spent much of his fortune on this temple to Jupiter, and while he had sometimes dismissed the gods as mere fantasy, he still held onto his belief in Jupiter, the mightiest of the Gods. It was his desire to attain that power, to become the Emperor himself and wield the power of a god over all his citizens.

He prostrated himself before Jupiter, begging him to make things better. Jupiter hadn't failed him in the past, and he hoped desperately that Jupiter would not fail him again. But no matter how much he pleaded and begged, and slit his palm to offer his own blood as penance, the statue was cold and lifeless, and there was no reply. The Gods had turned from him and he wasn't sure there were enough offerings he could make to convince them to spare his life.

His tears splashed into the pool of blood at his feet. Gazing up, he stood on shaky feet and smeared the blood on the statue, hoping it might imbue it with life, but nothing happened. Jupiter had stopped listening, and Charles was on his own. Terrified for his life, he turned tail and fled from the temple.

* * *

Andrew sat on the floor of what used to be Charles' office. He was his master’s favourite concubine, and he had fallen deeply in love with him. They used to spend a lot of time there, Andrew waiting for his master to call him to his side. Sometimes, there would be slaves to play with, sometimes Charles wanted him all to himself, and on rare occasions, he would be ordered to pleasure his master's guests.

But there was no one there anymore. The mosaic floor was chipped, the paint faded, and all the furnishings gone. Indeed, the whole house was empty now, not that Andrew had any idea where it had all gone. He had seen Charles fleeing for his life, though he dared not follow. Charles had seemed deranged, hysterical, as he ran towards the forest that covered the side of the hill opposite the villa.

Lost for anything else to do, Andrew returned to the one room he had always felt safe. He couldn't help crying as he removed the gold circlet from his head and set it beside him. The one master he had truly loved had fled from him, had abandoned him to fend for himself in a big scary empty house. Andrew still wasn't entirely sure what had happened during the past few days. Most of his memories comprised of a spectacular feast that did indeed seem to go on for days, but he was suspicious it was just a mask for the more terrible memories that kept threatening to make themselves known. He quickly shut them away.

"Andrew! Andrew, where are you? I need you," came Charles' voice on the breeze.

Andrew looked up, wondering if he had been mistaken when he had seen Charles abandoning him. Maybe he had returned. "Master? You wish for my presence?"

"Andrew, get your sorry arse to my bedroom now," Charles' voice replied, sounding somewhat angrier.

"Yes, master, right away," Andrew said, scrambling to his feet. He remembered to replace the gold circlet on his head before scampering off to attend to his master.

* * *

Andrew returned to Charles' bedroom and found him sitting by the window, looking despondent. Charles was dressed in his old Army uniform, the breastplate gleaming in the sunlight. Bowing to him before he entered, Andrew approached slowly, not sure he should disturb him. Then again, he had called him and he should always respond to his master's call. Charles didn't move or many any sign he was aware of his presence. Andrew got close enough and rested a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Oh. You came. That's nice. I was worried you'd never come back," Charles murmured.

Andrew knelt beside him and kept his head bowed. He got the impression he was to remain silent until Charles told him otherwise. He was also puzzled that Charles thought he'd left him. He hadn't any intention to leave, not now. Besides, he was sure he'd seen Charles fleeing before. Maybe he had just been imagining that.

"The rain's so hard today, hammering the ground into submission. Everything's ruined, the plants will be killed, and the end will come. Frost will destroy this place one day," Charles said.

Andrew dared a look out the window. He hadn't noticed it raining before, and it looked like a perfectly fine summer's day outside, the sun warm and hot as it shone down onto the scorched earth. He almost spoke up to correct him, but he remembered his place and kept his mouth shut.

"Pasithea called. She wants you dead. She said I'm to kill you before you betray me, but you'd never do that, would you? You'd always be there for me. You'd go to the arena for me, wouldn't you?" Charles said. He gently stroked Andrew's head, more to comfort himself than anything else.

"Yes, master, I would," Andrew replied.

"Good boy. You're a good boy. No one else is as loyal to me as you are. The Gods will praise you for your loyalty," Charles said. This didn't seem to require an answer so Andrew kept quiet. He wasn't sure where this was going, but his master had never seemed so... out of sorts before. It was as if he had given up, had lost all hope of his dreams coming true, and he'd reached the end of his life. Andrew didn't know what to do.

Andrew looked up as Charles got to his feet. He made no move to follow him and Charles didn't call him to his side. Instead, Andrew watched as Charles strapped his sword to his armour and left the room. Where he was going he didn't know, nor if he'd see him again.

* * *

Andrew waited til Charles was out of sight before leaving. Perhaps he should go back to the slave house. Maybe he should follow Charles, just to make sure he was okay. Where was Charles going anyway? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that the villa seemed very empty indeed. He was sure there had been staff here before, so where were they? Where were the guards and the other slaves? Confused, he headed out to the gardens to see if there was anyone outside. He didn't see anyone until he headed down to the slave house and found Roy tending to Carl. Andrew almost didn't approach them, so horrified by Carl’s injuries, but Roy looked up then and saw him, and Andrew had no chance to escape. Then again, Andrew didn't know what was going on anymore.

"What on earth happened to him? I thought he'd left the villa with his friends?" Andrew said as he knelt beside him.

"I don't know. I found him here like this. He's too hurt to say anything. I haven't seen anyone else for days. I've been surviving on what I can steal from the larder in the villa, but he's too badly injured to move. Where's our master? Is he okay? What's been going on here?" Roy said.

"I wish I knew. Charles - he just left. I think he went to kill himself, but he was not okay, and I can't find him, so I don't even know if he's okay. Who the hell would hurt him like that? Not even Charles is that cruel," Andrew said.

"He's better than he used to be, but he needs a physician. I don't know where to find one, and I'm just slave anyway. I've got nothing. Where would I find help?" Roy said. "I know I didn't really know him, but he was kind to me."

"There's one in Neapolis that Charles often sent me to see. He'll help, I'm sure. There should be a cart in the stables. Come, I'll need your help to hitch it up," Andrew said.

Roy reluctantly left Carl as he followed Andrew round to the stables. He hadn't liked Andrew much the first time he'd met him, but he seemed much nicer now. Perhaps he'd misjudged him.

* * *

_George Harrison's villa, south of Neapolis_  
They'd travelled three days so far, and made good progress. They were approaching Neapolis, where they would rest overnight before making the final trip towards Telesia. They slowed as they approached Dhani's father's villa, well, it was Dhani's now. They stopped outside the burnt gates, their charred remains leaning against the walls. It was strange seeing it now. Jeff and Tom dismounted and led their horses inside the villa. The reports had been right. Everything had been burnt. There was nothing left but charcoaled remains. Jeff murmured a prayer for the dead and bowed his head.

"I knew it had been burnt, but I never expected this. It's all utterly destroyed. Whoever did this knew what they were doing," Tom said as he gazed over the wreckage.

They walked towards the remnants of the main villa, seeing nothing but charred wreckage. Built from wood, everything had burnt, and burnt thoroughly. There wasn't much left, and bodies had been difficult to remove. They were not in good condition. Already a makeshift shrine to the household gods had been set up outside the villa, and offerings were left to appease the gods and the spirits of the deceased.

"This place is so troubled now. Can't you feel it? Nothing's happy anymore," Jeff murmured.

"This is what happens when you slaughter good people. The gods get angry. You were going to leave some offerings?" Tom said, glancing over at him.

Jeff rummaged around in one of his saddlebags and removed the offerings he'd promised Dhani he'd leave for them. He knelt before the shrine and said some more prayers. He knew he'd made the right decision in not letting Dhani come down here. It wouldn't have helped. The boy hadn't seen enough death to be able to cope with a scene like that. Jeff stood, wondering what they'd done to deserve such a tragedy.

"Come on, let's get going. I want to get to Neapolis before dusk."

Taking one last look at the destroyed villa, they mounted their horses and continued on, the sun setting slowly over the forest on the other side of the road.

* * *

_Charles Firth's villa, Telesia_  
Jeff and Tom arrived at Charles' villa late the next day. The town was deserted, and they saw no one as they rode through. The air was still and quiet, a little too still and quiet. The wind, light as it was, made an eerie sound as it brushed past the trees. They slowed their horses to a walk, unsure what dangers might be waiting for them. Jeff drew his sword, just in case.

"This place is creepy. What kind of plague wiped it out, do you wonder?" Tom said.

"A plague sent by the Gods, by all accounts. Those who couldn't flee were killed. This is a cursed place, no doubt about that," Jeff murmured.

Tom scanned the buildings before him. "So where we heading?"

Jeff spotted the gates in the distance. "Up there. Those red gates. Somewhat less red than the last time I saw them though."

Spurring their horses on, they set off towards the gates. The villa sat upon a ridge overlooking the river below, snaking around the hill. It seemed even more deserted than they had anticipated. Up close, the red gates were old and battered, the paint chipped away. They dismounted and looked around. It wasn't impossible that Charles still lived there, but it was hard to imagine. He was known to be particular about his surroundings. Surely not even he would accept such wear. One of the gates swung open at Jeff's touch, creaking loudly on its hinges. Swords drawn, Jeff led Tom inside the courtyard.

"I'd wager this place is abandoned. How could anyone still be living here?" Jeff wondered as he walked.

"He's a madman. Anything's possible. So where should we start looking? This is a huge villa, he could be anywhere," Tom said.

"Nah, I reckon we could narrow it down somewhat. You didn't come with me last time I was here. I know a few of his favourite places," Jeff said.

They went into the mansion, Jeff leading the way to Charles' private chambers. The house was cold and empty. It didn't look like anyone had been living there for years. There were no trinkets, no personal belongings, no furniture, boxes or clothes, just faded wall paintings and murals and a few broken mosaics. Charles' rooms were empty too. A sheet of parchment lay on the ground, with the beginnings of an old treatise on it, but it offered nothing of value.

"Do you think we should search the whole house? It doesn't look like anyone's here," Tom said.

"Let's go down to the slave house below. That's his other favourite haunt. He used to have a very large collection of concubines and slaves he would take to bed. That I do remember. He might be down there," Jeff said.

Wasting no further time on the house, they headed down to the slave house. It also looked deserted. Jeff stopped as he noticed the chapel had been smashed to pieces. It lay in ruins, marble columns and statues lying broken and forgotten.

"That one of yours?" Jeff said, indicating the chapel.

"Nope. We never came here. Besides, we did it different anyway. Something else did that," Tom said.

"Why destroy the chapel? Seems an odd thing to do, if you ask me. Why destroy only the chapel and leave the rest intact. That's strange," Jeff said.

"Maybe it was the plague. Maybe they destroyed it when they were fleeing, trying to hurt the gods who had caused this?" Tom said.

"Maybe, but it looks newer than that. See those breaks? They're sharp, new, they're not worn down like the rest of this place. No, that happened recently, that did. Come on, I want to have a closer look," Jeff said, noticing the broken pieces of pillar lying askew around the lawn.

Jeff couldn’t help approaching the destroyed chapel, just to see if there were any clues left as to what might’ve happened. It looked worse close-up, though quite what had destroyed it was not at all clear. Two statues, a man, and a woman, gripping each other as if in mortal combat, stood in the centre of the chapel. He was lightly built, with strange markings carved into his skin, and delicate wings came from his back. She was dressed like a concubine, her face twisted in rage and fear, as she held him off.

“What do you suppose this is then?” Tom said, gazing at the statues.

“If I knew, I’d tell you. I’ve never seen statues like this before. You’d never see them in chapels. Whatever they are, they’re not Roman. Who’d have conceived of men with wings like that? That’s not natural,” Jeff said.

The statues remained still, locked in eternal combat. Jeff rested a hand on the man’s shoulder, trying to work out the expression on his face. “So who do you reckon she is then? She looks Roman, even if he doesn’t,” Tom said.

“She’s not Roman, she’s Greek. See the necklace she’s wearing? The way the dress is draped? She’s Greek. Don’t ask me what he is though. He’s something else entirely,” Jeff said.

“Gaelic maybe? They’ve got winged people like that in their myths, don’t they? Specially with those markings. I’ve seen them around the slave markets. Quite what the two of them are doing together is beyond me though,” Tom said.

“I’ll mention it to Caesar. He might have some ideas. Come on, we’d better keep looking,” Jeff said, giving the statues one last look before he turned and left. Neither noticed the markings on the male statue begin to glow a little, glistening in the sunlight.

* * *

If they were expecting the slave house to be empty, they were surprisingly mistaken. They found Roy crouched over Carl's still body, Andrew sitting to the side, looking despondent.

"You. I've seen you before. You came from George's villa, didn't you?" Jeff said to Roy.

Roy looked up and recognised the two men before him. He hurried over and knelt at their feet, grateful to see them. "I-I was taken, I survived the attack. I was going to be enslaved, but... I don't know what happened. I can't-it's too hard to know what's real and what isn't. Everyone died. So many died. At least I think they died. Please, take me away from this horrid place," Roy begged, keeping his head bowed.

Jeff lifted him to his feet and gazed down at him. He wiped his tears away and smiled at him. "Don't worry, you'll be safe with me. Is anyone else still alive, or is it just you two?"

"I think it's just us. I haven't seen anyone else," Roy answered.

"Then we'd better bury your friend there and get back home. You can come into my household if you like," Jeff said.

"That would be ever so generous of you, sir," Roy said.

"You know, I think we'd still better have a look around anyway. You never know what you might find in a place like this," Tom said.

"That's true. Do you want to stay here? How's Andrew anyway? Is he okay?" Jeff said.

"He hasn't spoken for ages. I don't know what's wrong with him," Roy said.

"Hmm. You go with Tom. I'll see if I can get through to him," Jeff said.

"Yes, master," Roy said. He bowed and followed after Tom as they headed into the slave house to look for any more survivors.

Jeff knelt before Andrew and lifted his chin up to look at him. "Well, you're in a cheery mood, aren't ya?"

"I failed my master. He's dead, I'm sure of it. I could've stopped him, if I'd just said something, maybe he'd have-" Andrew paused and wiped his tears away. "You might not've liked my master, sir, but I've never had a master who was so kind to me before. I will always thank him for that."

Jeff squeezed his shoulder gently. "It's not your fault. Do you have any idea what happened here then?"

"No. I-it's so unclear. Messed up. I have no idea what's real anymore. I've seen too many strange things, had too many nightmares. I just want to leave this place," Andrew murmured.

"Well, it's a good thing we came along then," Jeff said. Andrew looked at him and began to panic.

"I'm not going to get in trouble, am I? All I did was follow orders, sir, like a good slave. All I ever did was follow orders. I didn't know anything about what was going on, I just looked after the concubines, sir, that's all, I promise. What will I do now that Charles has left me? I only ever loved him, sir. Whatever will I do now? I doubt any master would want me now. I am doomed."

Jeff sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Nah, you'll be alright. I'll leave it up to Caesar to decide your fate."

"Caesar will surely have me killed. My life is over," Andrew said as he clasped onto Jeff.

* * *

The slave house was eerily quiet as they searched the rooms. Roy kept back a little, letting Tom go first. Roy had a bad feeling about this place. He wasn't sure what had happened here, but there was something bad in the air. He wasn't sure he wanted to find Charles' body, if he was honest with himself. They got to the second floor and began searching the rooms. They didn't get very far before they found him. Tom stood in the doorway of the small nondescript bedroom, Charles' disfigured corpse in one corner.

"What's wrong? Did you find him?" Roy said as he approached.

"He's in here. Been a while since he was alive, that's for sure," Tom said.

Roy peered around the doorframe cautiously. Sure enough, there he was in the corner, curled up in fear. Rusty shackles were still attached to his wrists, and his jaw was crooked and broken. A hand covered his face in vain, one last ditch attempt to stop whoever it was from killing him. He looked like he'd been frightened to death.

Roy decided he'd seen enough and turned away, staying out in the corridor as Tom went in to investigate. There were no visible wounds on the body, and while it had been dead a long time, it didn't look like an old skeletal corpse either. It was still recognisable as Charles, and it was only when Tom touched him that he realised why. He'd been turned to stone.

"Well, I've never seen that before. Wonder who did that to him?" Tom murmured, looking for any signs of who might've been responsible. "Not that it matters. He's not gonna trouble us anymore, poor bastard."

Whispering a prayer for the dead, he took a moment to ask the gods to look after him before he joined Roy out in the hallway again. Roy looked maudlin and slouched against the wall, kicking idly at the floor. Tom came up to him and touched a hand to his shoulder.

"Come on, let's get out of here, hey?" Tom said with a small grin.

"I never want to come back here again. I'll never forget that look on his face..."

Roy trailed off as Tom led him back down to the ground floor where Jeff and Andrew were.

* * *

Jeff held him while they waited for Tom to return. Andrew had no idea what he would do now that Charles had gone. He wasn't even sure if he was dead or had simply fled. There were too many conflicting stories in his head, vague memories floating around like the remnants of bad dreams. He didn't know if he could trust his own memories anymore. Andrew gazed up as Tom and Roy returned, Roy clinging to him as if he'd just seen a ghost.

"So, did you find him?" Jeff said.

"Yeah, couple of floors up. Frightened to death. At least that's one less problem to worry about. I'll spare you the detail," Tom said.

"I never want to see anything like that ever again. He did not die a happy man," Roy said softly.

"Hey, Andrew, are there any spare horses or carts around here? We could use the extra transport if we're going to take you with us," Jeff said as he pulled him to his feet.

"There might be something in the stables. There was last time I looked. Are we really going to take Carl with us? Where are we going to bury him?" Andrew said.

"Don't bury him here. The ground is cursed. Wait til we get outside the town and bury him by the roadside. It's not much, but it's the best we can do. I'll build a cairn for him to mark his grave," Roy said.

"What's a cairn?" Jeff said. "It's how my people bury our dead. We lay them in a stone coffin and cover them with rocks. At least let me honour him with a proper burial," Roy said.

Jeff could find nothing to argue in that request. Retrieving some material and wood to create a stretcher, they carried his body to the stables as they looked for a cart and some more horses. There were two horses left, and a cart with a broken wheel. The horses were fine, they could pull the cart with no problems, but the cart would need a new wheel. Jeff sent them off looking for one, and if they couldn't find one, they would have to mend it themselves.

Roy was looking at the back of the stables behind some barrels. A curved structure had caught his eye. Instead of a wheel, however, he found someone curled up in a cage, shivering and muttering incoherently. Roy rushed back to Jeff.

"Master, there's another person here, back there, trapped in a cage. Come on, we have to save them. They're alive," Roy said, dragging him back to where the man was.

Sure enough, there was a man in a cage. Shifting the barrels and other crates out of the way, they moved the cage into view to see if they could get into it. Roy was surprised to see the cage door had not been locked, and merely swung open when he tried to open it. As soon as he did so, the man inside quickly reached around and slammed the door shut again, as if he was terrified of leaving.

"Maybe we should leave him here. Seems happy enough," Jeff said, not sure he wanted to take a madman back to Rome. He might be better left here where he was.

Roy knelt down beside the cage. "We have to take him with us. We can't just leave him here like this." He turned his attention back to the man in the cage. "Come on, it's okay. We'll take you away from all this. We're not going to hurt you."

The man inside turned to him and snarled, lashing at him against the bars, unable to reach him. Roy backed off. Jeff wasn't sure taking him was a good idea. Roy tried again, reaching in through the bars to touch his cheek. The man stopped and fierce eyes glared back at him. Roy didn't shy away. For the first time, he recognised him.

"You're Carl's friend, aren't you? What happened to you? How did you end up like this?" Roy said, keeping his voice soft.

The man whined and bashed his head against the cage. It seemed he was incapable of speech. He calmed the more Roy stroked his face gently, smiling calmly and talking softly to him.

Jeff left him to it as he went to see how the rest of them were doing. Andrew had found a spare wheel, and was currently in the middle of tacking up the horses. The cart wasn't that complex, just an open back and a seat, the sort used to haul stock to market, but it would do. Carl's body was wrapped in linens and other material stolen from the slave house in preparation for burial.

Just as they'd finished loading up and were getting ready to go, Roy returned with Bev at his side, leaning heavily against him as he struggled to walk. He still hadn't spoken, but he had calmed down considerably and was willing to sit in the back of the cart with them. He began to cry when he saw Carl's body lying there. He reverently touched a kiss to his forehead, saying his own silent goodbye.

Andrew drove the cart, while Tom and Jeff rode alongside. It would be a long trip back to civilisation, back to Rome, and the sooner they started the better. The villa was left to the elements, finally empty of people.


End file.
